Hiring Out
by dcat8888
Summary: A neighbor of Milt's needs some help in the lawn and garden department, and guess who gets elected?


Hiring Out

by dcat

"Yes Amelia, believe me, you can trust him. No, I wanted to be upfront with you, but you have nothing to worry about with McCormick. He'll do a good job for you, yes, I promise he will, and I doubt that there's anything out of the unusual happening over there," the Judge nervously laughed as he spoke on the phone, "No, there's no need to pay him, no he's happy to do it. Yes, just point him in the direction of your tool shed and he'll know exactly what to do. Of course he will, yes, he'll keep his eyes open for anything unusual, well, we don't know what that might be. I'll make sure of it. It could just be some raccoons rummaging around. No, I didn't say that, no I don't mean to say that you're not a good housekeeper, I didn't mean to imply that. But we're talking about outside right Amelia? You know as well as I do that critters like to roam around, especially when there's some wild spots they might be able to hide in. I know that. Like I said, don't worry, McCormick will take care of it. I understand why you called me. I'd do it myself but I'm not getting any younger either Amelia. No, no, McCormick's the perfect person for the job. Anytime Amelia. We'll get to the bottom of whatever it might be and you'll get your yard cleaned up too. Okay? Great, he'll be there tomorrow. Bye bye now."

The Judge had never spoken that long to Amelia Robinson in all the years they'd been neighbors, but she was having a potential problem and he felt obligated to lend a hand. He hoped that's all she wanted, sometimes lonely widows wanted more and this time Milt Hardcastle had no interest in any of that. Not that Amelia wasn't a nice lady, she just wasn't his type and he wasn't looking for romance anyway. Hardcastle hung up the phone. That was the easy part, Milt thought as he set the phone back in its holder, now he needed to tell McCormick about his elderly neighbor lady. The way he had it figured was that it was a chance to see just how observant the kid could be. Hardcastle's money was on there not being anything wrong over there, except a lot of overgrowth and the vivid imagination of an elderly woman. And McCormick was the perfect solution to both of those problems. He had it locked in to kill two birds with one stone. _She's probably just lonely_, he thought, trying to think of how many months it had been since her husband George had passed away, but he couldn't recall. Anyway, he'd merely tell McCormick that he was going to help out a disabled neighbor and see how long it took the kid to see if indeed anything funny was going on on his neighbor's property or if Amelia Robinson was ready for the Funny Farm. Maybe it was nothing, but she was a neighbor and she was still having a hard time getting around after spending a considerable amount of time in a rehabilitation facility after falling down her stairs and breaking a hip.

His answer was McCormick.

OOOOO

Amelia Robinson didn't know where else to turn to. She had heard from some of the other neighbors that knew that the Judge, in his recent retirement, had found a special interest in crime fighting and if anyone could get to the bottom of strange noises or a potential break-in, he'd be the one to call. Amelia first called to Milt to ask if he had any unusual sounds or people running amok on his estate. When he told her he didn't, she told him that she was sure something was going on behind the walls of her fortress, but with the overgrowth she just couldn't make anything out and she wasn't willing to notify the police over nothing, what else could she possibly do? He had suggested his young protégé. Amelia had heard about him too and she had some suspicions, but she also had the assurances from the Judge that this McCormick fellow was the perfect person for the job.

OOOOO

Poolside was relatively tranquil as Hardcastle sat reading the morning paper. The peace and quiet didn't last long enough as McCormick came out of the house carrying a plate of food and heading straight for another 'showdown' of sorts with the Judge. Hardcastle thought the whole thing had been settled the night before, but McCormick was obviously still worked up over it.

"Hardcase, you can't just hire me out, it just isn't right." McCormick let his plate clang on the glass table top. "I'm in _your_ judicial stay, not anyone else's. It's bad enough I gotta do this stuff around here, I really don't want to make pool boy a career choice."

"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not hiring you out, she just needs a little work done, you're helping her out, that's all," he started and quickly added, "and she doesn't have a pool smart aleck."

"Oh really? Not hiring me out huh?" McCormick stuffed a forkful of food into his mouth and continued. "What exactly would you call it then when someone goes and works for someone else, while under employment to someone else and that someone else makes the deal, leaving the employee completely in the dark and with no recourse?"

"It's being neighborly McCormick. How many times have you asked me about my neighbors? Well, here's your chance to meet one. She's a very sweet lady. And I told you, I volunteered your services. You know there's no need to get yourself all worked up over this, it's not like I'm sending you over there to cut her toenails." Hardcastle set the paper down long enough to make eye contact and see that the kid's mouth was overflowing with food. McCormick briefly looked up and scowled at his comment and then Milt added, "You shouldn't eat so fast either, you're gonna have all kinds of stomach problems down the road if you keep doing that to yourself."

"There's nothing wrong with the way I eat and quit changing the subject." Another overflowing forkful went down. "Volunteering," he scoffed, "She's probably some goofy, old blue-haired Esmeralda or something." He shook his head again disgustedly, "You know you can't volunteer someone else, volunteering is a personal thing."

"Too bad, because you're going to do it McCormick, so quit griping. She's counting on you. You can't back out now."

"Why not?"

"McCormick, she's 75 years old, she just got home from the rehabilitation hospital after breaking her hip. She needs some lawn work done and she's a neighbor. You want to let someone like that down. Neighbor's help neighbors. Didn't you ever learn that lesson?"

Mark ignored his question and asked one of his own. "Then why don't you help her?"

"I am helping her, I'm letting you _volunteer_ your services over there, instead of lazing around here. We're not working on a case right now, you've got time." He let out a tired sigh, "She's got some work over there that needs your masterful touch." Hardcastle let a smile spread on his face. "Besides you've done such a wonderful job with this place, and her place isn't half as big as mine, shouldn't take you more than a couple of days to get it in order for her. What's the big deal?"

"Why doesn't she just hire a service?"

"Services cost money. Did you hear what I just told you? She just got home from a four-month stay at the hospital. That'll financially wipe just about anyone out these days. We're just doing her a favor. Can't you just do something for a change without having to question everything?"

"Well, if she can't take care of her place, maybe she should sell it," McCormick continued, apparently missing the part about not questioning everything.

"Now you're starting to get the picture. In order to sell it, it needs to be fixed up, and that's where you come in. You're going to get it in shape for her. So would you please finish your breakfast and get over there and get started!" Hardcastle was nearly shouting. "I promised her you'd start this morning.

"I still don't think you can just hire me out," McCormick mumbled as he scraped the last remnants of his food from the plate.

OOOOO

McCormick chose just to walk down the PCH. Amelia Robinson's estate was just two homes down from Gulls Way and it didn't seem right to take the Coyote that short of a distance. Besides walking down the highway gave him a chance to kick a few stones in frustrated anger and go back to the nagging question of why Hardcastle did the things he did. She was _his_ neighbor, not McCormick's. McCormick was merely the 'ex-con that was paroled in his custody.' He really didn't have any recourse though. If he wanted to make this situation work, he had to do what the Judge wanted him to do. It didn't seem right though. He never found the answer he wanted to his question, or the million other questions he had as he walked, but as he got closer his frustration began to subside and he began to wonder what exactly was behind the twelve-foot high stone brick wall that he'd driven by endlessly in the three months or so that he'd lived at the estate with the Judge. At least he'd find that out today.

As he walked past the wall he came upon the gate which was constructed from the same stone brick that encircled the entire property. This estate was more secure than most prisons. That thought almost made him shiver. The stone gate had been cleverly mounted on a gear-train that when McCormick rang the bell, the 'gate' began to chug and churn open as if it hadn't been used in months, which it probably hadn't, given the fact that the old lady had been living in a hospital. The gear-train at the least, needed a spot of oil lubricant, probably something else he'd have to do for the old lady. He made a sarcastic mental note to thank the Judge for that too, this 'volunteering' of his probably wouldn't solely be lawn and garden care.

When the gate opened up enough for him to enter, his mouth dropped open and he said aloud. "I can't believe this!"

OOOOO

It was nearing seven pm when McCormick came walking back up the driveway of Gulls Way. Hardcastle peered out of the window and decided right then and there to brace himself, especially as he saw the angry look on McCormick's face as he neared the house.

The front door slammed.

Milt sat back in his desk chair and waited. He knew from the sound of the slam that some sort of fallout was in order and it was better for him to patiently wait and let McCormick blow off steam on his own terms.

McCormick however, went the opposite direction and headed into the kitchen, apparently to avoid any confrontation.

Now that type of behavior only served to annoy the Judge and he rose up and decided to follow and pursue. When he walked into the kitchen, McCormick stood by the kitchen sink and was busy scrubbing his hands, forearms and face.

"You know they got a better invention for doing that nowadays, it's called a shower." Hardcastle said as he watched water splash all over the counter and the floor.

"Very funny. Consider this a pit-stop," he said, quickly rinsing down the soap off his arms and hands.

"What do you mean a pit-stop? Are you going back over there tonight?" The Judge's voice went up an octave.

"Ha, no, not tonight. McCormick's Lawn and Garden Service and Home Repair is closed for the day. I thought I'd clean up my hands so that I can grab a couple of sandwich's, then I'm going to take a real shower, come back in here and order up some dinner because I'm starving."

"So you're finished over there?"

McCormick stopped dead in his tracks and glared at the Judge. "Next time I'd appreciate it if you'd ask me first before you hire me out, no wait, make that VOLUNTEER me for this sort of thing. Do you have any idea what her property looks like?"

"Why don't you just come out and say what it is you have to say instead of dancing around? I can tell something's on your mind." Hardcastle asked.

"Have you ever seen the movie _Psycho_?"

The Judge rested his arm on the counter, this could take awhile. "McCormick, what does a crazy old movie have to do with anything?"

"There is something _psycho_ going on at that house," He grabbed a nearby hand towel and started to wipe off the excess water that dripped down his forearms.

"McCormick, there's no one living there besides Amelia. What exactly happened over there anyway? Did you see something unusual?" Hardcastle tried not to let on his pre-knowledge of a potential robbery.

McCormick didn't notice anything as by now he was into the refrigerator, aggressively pulling out all the fixings to build his dinner appetizer. "What happened? I'm still trying to decipher it all for myself. Her place is a mess. It's no wonder she's got a 12 foot wall around the place. It's not to keep people out, it to keep all the mess under wraps. It'd be easier to demo the whole place and start over from scratch. Have you even met her?" He barely took a breath.

"Of course I've met her, she's a nice elderly woman McCormick, who happens to need some help."

"No, no, no, help is something Magic gives to Kareem when they double down on Larry Bird or help is something you do when you give someone a lift home when their car won't start, this little volunteer project of yours is major construction." After piling the ingredients on the table, he sat down in one of the chairs and began to build his sandwiches. "And I'm beginning to doubt that she even exists, you know like the _Psycho_ woman? She's just sort of scarecrow type of thing in the upstairs window."

"She exists all right, upstairs window?" An exasperated Hardcastle sat down across from him. "Anytime you want to tell me…" Milt's mind was already wondering how a woman with a broken hip could get up the stairs.

"So I ring the bell, and the gate barely opens enough for me to get inside. And I couldn't believe my eyes. There's probably at least a year's worth of work on her grounds," he said sarcastically, beginning to build his first sandwich. "I go up to the house and knock on the door and all I hear is the this voice that tells me that all the stuff I need is just around back in the shed. I started to ask another question, but all I heard was the inside door close shut. And she didn't even offer me lunch! I'm starving. You never mentioned I'd need one of those metal lunch boxes and a thermos for this gig. And I hope you're charging her for this."

"That doesn't sound like Amelia," Hardcastle said.

"Like I said, _Psycho_," McCormick began to eat.

"But you got the work done for her?" Milt asked, still trying to figure out the somewhat odd behavior, as well as the comment about the upstairs window.

"Ha, no. You know her property may not be as large as yours, but this isn't a one-day job. It's gonna take awhile. In fact you might have to hire someone to do your grounds, while I'm doing hers. So much for you hiring me out," he gave Hardcastle a grin.

"I didn't hire you out!" Hardcastle stood up and exited the kitchen, but shouted out as he left, "I volunteered your services."

OOOOO

McCormick finished his first course of three sandwiches and decided to head over to the gatehouse to take a shower.

While he was gone, Hardcastle dialed up Amelia on the phone. "Amelia, it's Milt. Yeah, how did it go? Nope, he didn't say anything about seeing anything strange outside. He did say you didn't even come to the door though, you know you don't have to be afraid of him. Well, yeah I know you broke your hip, walking is still tough huh? You're not able to get up to the second floor right? No, no he said, it would take him awhile yet to clear up the property. But hopefully once he gets it straightened up no one will be sneaking around bothering you, yep it's like inviting trouble when you've got all that overgrowth out there. Don't worry though, he'll be back tomorrow. We'll get to the bottom of it. I'll talk to you soon Amelia. Bye bye for now."

OOOOO

There were four more days of this back-breaking type yard work to be done. Hedging, trimming, mowing, weeding, mulching, and cleaning up the endless garbage that seemed to scramble over the retaining wall and make its home on the Robinson property. McCormick was about ready to suggest to Mrs. Robinson that she should consider getting a dumpster hauled in for this job. In McCormick's eyes, Amelia Robinson, the virtually invisible grand dame herself had let her property go long before she broke her hip, and that was only if she really did exist, he still hadn't seen more than her shadow.

He could swear she watched him all day long, everyday or that someone on the second floor did. But each time he'd glance toward the house and its many windows, he'd see no one. It got to be eerie.

Hardcastle had told him that he'd spoken with her on the phone and the reason she didn't come to the door was because of her hip, but also that she was very pleased with all the work he was doing and how quickly the clean-up process was coming along.

On the fifth day, all hell broke loose. McCormick had been working in a circle of sorts, as Amelia's home sat right smack dab in the middle of her spacious grounds. On day five he was working near the back of the property, behind the house when he stumbled upon human remains, remains that weren't just skeletal either. Someone had apparently died recently on her grounds. And from the looks of the way the body laid, someone had come over the wall from the property directly behind hers.

McCormick immediately made his way toward her house and loudly banged on the door. "Mrs. Robinson, please I need to come in and use your phone, it's an emergency of sorts, please, let me in." He continued to knock and repeat his plea over and over until finally the graying, stooped over woman, complete with walker, made her way slowly to the front foyer.

She glared at him through the door and answered, "Land sakes young man, I answered you five minutes ago. The door is open, and the phone is right there on the stand. You may come in and use it and then go back outside. What's all the shouting and banging for. Didn't you hear me? I answered you every time you knocked. Land sakes, what's the emergency anyway?"

McCormick was stunned by her feeble appearance. There was no wonder that she was rehabbing as she shuffled slowly along. Mark suddenly felt guilty for having the crazy thoughts he had had about her Hardcastle was right, she was just a wisp of a woman, barely five feet tall, and obviously still healing from her broken hip. It wasn't at all what he expected and there was no way anyone could hear her frail voice as he barely heard it standing there on her porch through the screen door.

"I'm sorry ma'am, I didn't hear you. And I don't mean to alarm you. I'm sorry you had to get up. This'll only take a minute for me to make a call and I wouldn't do it unless there was an emergency."

"Just get it over with," she head gestured to the phone and Mark stepped inside. She watched him with some suspicion. He entered and noticed that her house was immaculate, fresh smelling, warm and inviting, completely opposite from the grounds. Before he could say anything she asked, "What's the big emergency anyway? You have a hot date or something?" She let out a tiny laugh.

"Um, I'm not sure how to tell you this," he paused and sort of cringed, "but I just found a dead body on your property."

"What? A dead body, here on my land? No, that can't possibly be. You didn't kill someone did you, I know the Judge said you're one of those convict types."

McCormick stifled a laugh, "That's ex-convict type, Mrs. Robinson, and no I didn't kill anyone, I don't even like to step on ants and kill them, but I'm afraid there's a body out back. Have you noticed anything unusual lately?" He watched her closely and she was obviously still stunned from what he had revealed to her, so he didn't press her. "If it's okay with you, I'm going to call Judge Hardcastle and I'm sure he'll call the police and they'll take care of everything. There's no need to worry."

Suddenly she surprised him with another spurt of spunk. "Look sonny boy, if there's some nut job killing someone on my property, I have every right to worry. Land sakes, land sakes." Mark took a step toward her to steady her as it appeared that she was very upset, but when she saw him coming toward her, she backed away from him and nearly held him at bay with her cane. "I'm fine, just leave me be. I'm not going to let this upset me."

"I'm sorry ma'am, I don't mean to upset you, but Mrs. Robinson, he may not have been murdered, he might just have died here. We won't know until the police take a look," Mark said, picking up the phone and dialing up the Judge. "But there really is no need to worry."

Amelia Robinson didn't answer him, but she continued to eye him up and down.

"Judge, hi, yeah, it's me McCormick, do me a favor, come down for a visit over to Mrs. Robinson's and before you come, call the police too and have them stop over too. Yeah, I found something you'll all be interested in. See you soon, bye." He hung up the phone and said to Amelia. "He'll be right over, I'll just wait outside. You'll be safe in here, there's no need to be frightened."

OOOOO

The Judge, flummoxed by the abrupt call, got into the old pick-up and drove down to the Robinson Estate and rang the bell. The gate opened up all the way for a change and Milt drove in right up to the house.

McCormick sat waiting on the porch.

"What's going on McCormick? This better be important."

"Hiya Judge, and it's important all right, something right up your alley as a matter of fact," he nodded, "Guess what?"

"McCormick, I'm not playing stupid guessing games, what the hell is going on?"

"I found a dead body out back."

"Not Amelia?"

"No, no she's fine. And that's one good thing, I finally met her, she's safe and sound in the house, she finally let me in to use the phone. She's kind of a sweet old girl."

"Of course she is, I tried to tell you that. So if it's not her, who's the body?" the Judge asked.

"Now how would I know that? It's taken me almost a full week to meet this neighbor of yours, and I haven't had the pleasure of meeting the others yet, but maybe it's one of them. It'd be very easy to get lost out back there, well, till I finish clearing away all the debris anyway, but maybe it's another neighbor, I don't know," he added with raised eyebrows. "Now if you'd consider having a house-warming party for me to welcome me to the neighborhood, maybe I could tell you who it is."

"I'm not throwing you a party McCormick. And how do you know it's someone from the neighborhood anyway?" Hardcastle said.

Mark shrugged, "I don't, I don't have a clue, other than it's a male."

"Let's go have a look before the cops get here."

OOOOO

"This guy hasn't been dead too long McCormick, like within the last few days."

"I know," Mark answered, looking around the property for any sort of clue, while the Judge checked over the body.

"You're sure you haven't seen anything or heard anything suspicious while you've been working here?" The Judge asked mysteriously.

"No, just the birds and the squirrels," he said, looking guardingly at the Judge, and suddenly a new thought came into his head, "but wait a minute, I'm not here just to do the hedges am I Hardcastle? I just realized, you are way to calm about all this. You already knew something was going on out on her property and I'm here because you think I'd find out. I'm not just a _hired-out, volunteer_ am I? This is one of your cases! Why in the world would you NOT tell me this?"

"She's been hearing things out here, yes, you caught me, I honestly didn't believe anything was going on out here except that it needed some work. But look at this place, it's a mess, well, the part that you haven't gotten to yet. That spot over there looks real nice kiddo. You're doing some good work." The Judge scanned over the property.

"Quit it, don't change the subject on me. Basically what you're telling me is that you hired me out as Tonto and not as the pool boy? And I fell for your ridiculous volunteer shtick. Why can't you ever be honest with me? Hiring me out," he repeated while he shook his head in frustration.

"How many times do I need to repeat myself, I did not hire you out."

McCormick waved his arms, letting the Judge know he'd heard it all before, "I know, I know, you volunteered me. Why is everything about semantics with you?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Go over and fix up her yard McCormick, she's a sweet old lady who broke her hip…"

"Maybe this guy was staking out her house?" Hardcastle ignored his question and his mild rant and tried to come up with some sort of a realistic scenario.

"And he just dies before he goes in and robs her? Sorry Hardcase, I'm not buying it."

"Maybe he came over the wall and fell?"

"Judge, there's no external wounds on the guy's body. Your theories aren't holding up very well."

Hardcastle scowled, "All right then, what's your explanation then?" The police car came pulling up and they both waved the officers over.

"I don't know," he looked at the decaying remains, "all I know is that I'm just the volunteer around here. And volunteers don't get paid to solve crimes, that's the policeman's job. Me, all I do is trim a little and hedge a little.

"Hedging is right," Hardcastle said as the two officers came and began to look over the body.

OOOOO

Before long an entire contingency of law enforcement personnel descended upon Mrs. Robinson's overgrown property, including the coroner wagon which came and finally took the body away after investigators and photographers got through with it.

Hardcastle stood off to the side talking with Frank, while McCormick seemed to be focusing his attention on finding out what and or who lived on the other side of the wall.

Milt came walking over to where McCormick stood, "Listen, I'm going to go downtown to the station. Frank says the ME is going to start in on the body right away, since there seems to be no outward trauma, you want to come along and see what we can find out? Autopsies can be kind of interesting," he was offering McCormick a new experience.

"Nah, I still have a lot of work to finish around here for Mrs. Robinson," he gestured to the rest of the yard. Hardcastle started to interrupt, but McCormick read his mind and added, "I don't think we should leave her all alone either. Look, I'll just avoid the yellow tape, it wouldn't be the first time." He paused and asked, "Judge who lives behind Mrs. Robinson anyway?" Mark pointed to the house on the other side of the wall.

"I'm not sure. It used to be a guy from upstate, some sort of banker I think, but he sold out maybe a year or so ago, now I'm not so sure. Why?"

"I don't know, I guess I just get the sneaking suspicion that maybe our body there was trying to get over the wall, or did get over the wall and was trying to get away from whatever or whoever is on that side." He pointed toward the house behind Amelia's. "It seemed like that was the direction of the way you'd fall or something, like if you were trying to get away."

"I'll check out the owner when I get downtown from the address and see if I come up with anything. Maybe there is a rash of crime going through my neighborhood and Mrs. Robinson noticed it. Harper said he wasn't aware of anything. Look, just make sure that Amelia's all locked up for the night before you go home okay?"

"I will Judge."

OOOOO

Mark spent the rest of the afternoon working on a new section of the Robinson estate and thankfully he didn't find anymore bodies, but he still couldn't get the thought of the house behind hers as the source or shake the feeling that someone was watching him and he knew it wasn't Amelia. The sun began to set in the west and he collected up his tools and took them back to the shed and locked them up for the night and then went up to the house. He politely knocked and called out for Amelia, then strained to hear her call back. This time it worked, he heard the frail voice tell him to come inside, to the kitchen, so in he went.

That was a surprise to be invited into her kitchen. He followed the aroma which led him right into her welcoming kitchen. This was a bit of a change after she had backed away from him earlier in the day. She was moving around rather gracefully, now using a walker, attempting to carry over a small beef roast to the table.

Mark spotted it right away, "Mrs. Robinson, let me get that for you," he went and took the serving platter from her and set it on the table. Noticing two plates set, he asked, "Are you expecting company tonight?"

She smiled at him and went back to the stove where she was putting the finishing touches on the gravy. "I had a taste all week long for a roast and the Judge mentioned that you like to eat, I can't eat an entire roast by myself young man."

"You're inviting me to dinner?" He asked suspiciously, letting a smile paint its way on his face.

She turned around and nodded. "I'm a pretty good cook. Didn't the Judge ever tell you that?"

"No he didn't, but it sure smells like you are," he said with a grin, "I should wash up though?"

"Up the stairs, first door on your right, and get a moving, it's best to eat when the food is hot." McCormick followed her orders and headed up the stairs.

OOOOO

Meanwhile downtown, the autopsy was proving to be interesting. The coroner did a quick drug screening which revealed a cocaine overdose. He and his assistant carefully examined the body looking for needle marks, and when neither of them could find any in the usual and even unusual places, the ME decided to open up his stomach which revealed several rubber balloons filled with cocaine had exploded inside the dead man.

"He was running drugs Milt," Frank said.

"Or was he being used to run drugs?" Hardcastle fired back. "By the looks of him, he looks like he just got off the boat." The dead man wore ramshackle type clothing.

"Well, we have no ID on him yet, but I do have something that fits," Harper said.

"What's that?"

"Your boy is pretty sharp Milt, thinking of checking on the neighbor of Mrs. Robinson. The house behind her belongs to an Eduardo Perez. He's a Colombian diplomat."

"Yeah, what else?"

"We're still trying to get his whole story. But I talked to our Metro Unit and there's some possible evidence linking his Colombian background to a new wave of smack on the streets."

"Let's go ask him some questions," The Judge said. "What are we standing around here for?"

"Milt, we can't just go knock on his door and ask him if he's got human cocaine mules jumping over the back wall of his estate."

"Why not?"

"Because we can't Milt. Just relax Milt, let us see what else the computer spits out."

OOOOO

McCormick walked up the stairs, happy to know that he would be sitting down to a real, home-cooked meal for a change. Happier still knowing that he'd maybe finally broken down a barrier that Mrs. Robinson had put up. The aroma from her kitchen filled the whole house. As he walked into the bathroom, all he was thinking about was how good the food would taste. Someone pushed the door closed after he entered and clubbed him on the back of the head and everything went black.

OOOOO

The coroner came into Frank's office with some new information. "This cocaine is laced with arsenic Lieutenant and because of that, the arsenic breaks down the balloon at a much faster rate, our guy had no idea the rubber balloon would burst inside him. From the looks of it this isn't the first time he's done this either. We can tell from the inside of his throat and stomach. My guess is that he's been a drug mule for years. And the sad thing is he only looks to be about twenty years old. There's clear evidence down his digestive track that this wasn't the first time he's done this."

"Great, that's all we need," Frank said.

"Can we go ask Perez some questions now?" Milt asked.

"Yep, let's go."

OOOOO

McCormick slowly came too on the floor of the bathroom. A Hispanic man stood over him, clutching his stomach, holding a gun on Mark and sweating heavily. From the floor below, Mark heard Amelia call out.

"Mr. McCormick, the dinner is ready, where are you?"

She must have been standing at the bottom of the stairs and he must not have been out for very long.

Mark tossed a pleading look toward his attacker who nodded that he could answer.

"I'll be right there Mrs. Robinson."

"Did you kill the guy outside?" Mark bluntly asked while rubbing the back of his head.

"No habla ingles," the man replied.

Mark let out a deep breath, "Great, this is all I need. Some volunteer work this is turning out to be. I bet Tonto never got hired out by the Lone Ranger." The sweaty man was trying to figure out what he was saying and he motioned for Mark to get to his feet. As McCormick stood up he began to gesture to the man saying, "Need to go, downstairs, she's waiting. Eat." He used his hands to motion food.

The man waved the gun and motioned Mark to exit the bathroom. Then he poked the gun directly in his back, telling him to andele down the stairs.

OOOOO

Milt and Frank pulled up to the Perez estate and told the security guard they needed to ask Eduardo some questions.

They were quickly ushered onto the back deck to wait for Perez.

Milt began to scan the area for anything near the wall that might indicate someone had jumped over. He and Frank both noticed it at the same time, some shrubbery that was oddly broken and damaged, off near the edge of Mrs. Robinson's stone wall.

Finally Perez came out. Harper's questions mainly focused on whether or not Eduardo had any problems with strange noises or people on his grounds. He told Perez that several of his neighbors had reported some troubling activity in the neighborhood. Perez was quick to deny any out of the ordinary behavior. And when Frank mentioned the shrubbery, Perez became quick to usher Harper and Hardcastle off the property, saying that he had an important international phone call to make.

"He's definitely hiding something Frank," Milt said as they exited the premises.

"Yeah, but we need to get a warrant before we can do anything else," Frank responded.

OOOOO

Mark and his sweaty, gun-toting friend walked back down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Mrs. Robinson, don't be afraid," Mark began, as the old woman turned around from the stove and saw the armed man behind McCormick.

"Dear Lord, what on earth? You're robbing me?"

"No, I'm not robbing you. You and I are being held hostage. I think he and his buddy outside were planning on it. He knocked me out in the upstairs bathroom. I bet they've both been up there, he doesn't apparently speak any English. But I think it's safe to say he's half of the noises you've been hearing around here lately. From the looks of it they've been using your upstairs." Mark rubbed the back of his head, where he had been knocked out and felt a little touch of a bloody spot. He winced as he found it.

"Mr. McCormick, are you hurt?" she asked him.

"No, I'm okay, and just call me Mark, we've known each other for five days now Mrs. Robinson, we should be on a first name basis," he gave her a partial smile.

Suddenly the other man loudly groaned and clutched his stomach.

"What's the matter with him?" Mrs. Robinson asked.

"I'm not sure Mrs. R., but my guess is it's the same thing as the dead guy that was in your yard. I think he needs a hospital right away, but I don't see either one of us convincing him of that." The young man mumbled something in Spanish and raised his gun in defiance.

To McCormick's surprise, Mrs. Robinson suddenly began speaking fluid Spanish to the man. McCormick took a seat at the table and wondered what was going on.

After about five minutes of conversation between Amelia and the man, Amelia started to tell Mark. "The dead man was named Roberto, this is Tomas. He was going to bury Roberto back in the corner where you found him, but you locked the shovel away every night. They are from Colombia. Tomas said the man who lives behind me brought them to the United States." She must have seen the perplexed look in Mark's face. "I was a high school Spanish teacher in my day, young man. I wasn't always a helpless, frail old biddy."

"I never thought you were," Mark grinned widely, "You're sure full of surprises Mrs. R."

"Ask him why that man brought them here?" Mark said to her and she proceeded to question him.

Tomas refused to answer, instead turning to glare at Mark.

"He's not saying," she said.

"Yeah, I got that," Mark said giving her another grin.

"He looks very sick though Mark, I wonder if it's some sort of flu or virus, what do you think?"

Mark eyed up Tomas. "It could be, he's sweating, looks feverish of some sort, something awful and something's eating away at his stomach. We should probably get him to the hospital, but he's not going to go for that."

Mrs. Robinson started talking in Spanish again, and even though Mark didn't understand it, he did understand Tomas repeatedly saying no to whatever it was she was suggesting.

OOOOO

Eduardo Perez called in a few of his aides. "We need to find Tomas fast."

One of his aides replied, "What about Roberto?"

"Roberto has been gone for days, chances are we'll never find him or the drugs. He's probably taken them and sold them by now, to begin his life here in America. No, we need to find Tomas. He couldn't have gotten too far, after all he was sick. Let's check the grounds and see if he's hiding, then, we'll check the neighbor's yards. Obviously our police friend has had reports that there have been people running around. Let's go," Eduardo said.

OOOOO

Milt and Frank waited outside of Perez's estate and were pleasantly surprised by the sudden activity. Unlike the Robinson property, aside from the opening gate, you could easily sit across the road from the Perez place and get a good look at what was going on on nearly the entire property. Hardcastle and Harper watched intently as a swarm of Perez's men began to search the property, some of them even climbing walls and fences into the neighboring estates, including Mrs. Robinson's.

"What the devil is going on?" Frank said, peering through some binoculars.

"Looks like they're looking for someone or something," Milt said.

"Yeah, like a dead body," Harper responded. "We must have spooked Perez. I'm going to call in some back-up over here."

"Good idea Frank, I'm going to head over and let McCormick and Amelia know," Milt said, getting out of the car.

OOOOO

"I think the Police have found Tomas," one of the aides said to Perez.

"Why is that?" Eduardo asked.

"I climbed the stone wall behind your home and there is yellow crime scene tape everywhere. I think Tomas is dead."

"Maybe it was Roberto," Eduardo responded, "And maybe Tomas is still over there, he only got away a few hours ago."

"Tomas has a gun Mr. Perez."

"How did he get a gun?" Eduardo's anger was beginning to show as he took an aggressive step toward his aide.

"He grabbed mine after he attacked me. I was going to go after him but he pointed it at me and I let him get away."

Perez got right up in his aides face and grabbed him by the collar and then angrily pushed him off. "Once we find Tomas and what's rightfully ours, you can pack your bags and return to Colombia. You are useless to me."

OOOOO

Oddly enough, Mrs. Robinson's gate was still open when Hardcastle walked back over to her estate. "That must mean McCormick's still here working," Milt said aloud as he sauntered up her drive. "McCormick?" he started to yell as he walked around the grounds looking for him.

He got no answer, but as he got to the back of the house he saw that a window on the second floor was wide open. He walked to the spot and noticed some foot prints below the window on the ground and noticed that the trellis on the side of the house looked like it had been recently climbed. Someone was potentially inside Amelia Robinson's house. Hardcastle had pieced together enough to realize that Amelia's sharp mind had probably actually stumbled upon a drug smuggling operation.

McCormick must be inside with her and perhaps another drug mule, and maybe even one of Perez's goons. He pulled the gun out of his jacket and checked to make sure it was loaded. Then he carefully began to lumber up the trellis himself, hoping that he'd surprise whomever was inside.

He got to the upstairs window and pulled himself into her house. Someone had been in the room, as a nearby table was knocked over. Now the room was empty. And Hardcastle knew because of her hip, that Amelia hadn't been in the 2nd floor of her home any time recently.

The Judge made his was quietly out of the room and down the hall. He stopped to peer inside the bathroom. The rugs on the floor were off-kilter and there was a small blood stain, fresh, on one of them. He continued on and waited at the top of the stairs.

Below he could hear several voices. It sounded like another language.

"No doctor, no hospital," Hardcastle heard a man's voice say.

Then it must have been Amelia speaking to him in Spanish, he couldn't make out the translation, but he knew it was Amelia's voice.

"Mrs. R., we shouldn't aggravate him," that was clearly McCormick's voice. "He's got a gun."

The kid must be psychic, Hardcastle thought. That was a piece of information he was glad to have. He kept listening to the conversation, so intently that he did not hear two of Perez's aides come up behind him in the house. They clubbed him on the back of his head and dragged him downstairs unconscious.

Mark, Amelia and Tomas heard the commotion and Mark used it as his opportunity to jump on Tomas and try to get his gun. He lunged at him and knocked the gun away, but before he could reach the gun, the two men of Perez, tossed Hardcastle into the kitchen and trained their guns on Mark and Amelia.

"Land sakes, what is going on in my house," Amelia said. "Who the devil are you two?"

"Shut up lady, all we want is Tomas here," one of the aides said.

The other aide got up to lift Tomas to his feet. He got up slowly, doubled over, still agonizing and clutching his stomach.

Hardcastle started to come around. "You better get that man to the hospital," he mumbled.

"He doesn't need a hospital Gramps, let's go, all he needs is us," the second man said.

Hardcastle managed to sit up and continued to talk. "You can tell Perez to kiss his cocaine goodbye. His latest stash her was laced with arsenic and that poison is eating away at the rubber balloons that this young man swallowed. By the looks of it, he's a few minutes away of dying from arsenic induced cocaine overdose and you boss is going to be held for his murder and the other man's too.

"Oh heavens no," Mrs. Robinson said looking over to the cold and clammy face of Tomas. "Please let me call an ambulance for him."

"Shut up lady," one of the goons said, raising his gun in her direction, in an effort to hit her.

That was all that Mark McCormick needed to see. He lunged at the man who was threatening Mrs. Robinson knocking him to the ground and sending the gun flying across the floor.

Hardcastle and Tomas managed to get the jump on the other man, with Hardcastle delivering the body and head blows as Tomas grabbed the gun. He then began to sink to the ground.

McCormick and the other man tussled around, exchanging fists, when finally Mark shoved him against the wall knocking the wind out of him. He went to grab the gun off the floor, but to his amazement, Mrs. Robinson had reached down and plucked it off the floor and was holding it on Perez's men.

"Go call the police McCormick," Hardcastle said. "It looks like Amelia's got this whole thing wrapped up."

OOOOO

It was only a matter of a few additional minutes when Frank Harper and LA's finest came bursting into the house, only to discover that Hardcastle, McCormick and Mrs. Robinson had wrapped up this case.

While they waited for the ambulance to come to take Tomas to the hospital, he was able to tell Amelia that Roberto had indeed been the first to get away from Perez and had broken into her house only because he was ill. He hoped to find some sort of stomach medication in her bathroom.

Roberto had come and gone from her home several times as he wanted to take Tomas with him but every time Roberto attempted to go back over the fence to help Tomas, he either got sick or one of Perez's men was in the near vicinity.

Tomas had finally managed to slip away, as he began to experience the same intestinal problems that Roberto complained of. When he scaled the stone wall and found his friend in the tall grass, he was near death and as Tomas held his friend in his arms, he had passed away, but not before urging Tomas to get away from Perez and never look back.

Tomas held on tightly to Amelia's hand as he spoke to her, content in finding someone who understood what he was saying. She promised she'd help get him back home to Colombia and to his family and he softly smiled, thanked her, closed his eyes and died before the paramedics could get there.

Harper rounded up as many of Perez's men as possible, as well as the kingpin himself, but admitted that with diplomatic immunity, most, if not all of them, would be out of the county lock-up by the next morning and on a plane back to Colombia before noon.

It all seemed so unfair.

OOOOO

The following morning came and Frank was right, Perez and his goons were back in Colombia before noon.

McCormick managed to get himself out of bed at the crack of dawn for about the next week or so. He would jog down the PCH to Amelia's house and continued to work on her grounds, getting them in shape for a potential buyer. As much as she loved her home, she knew she wasn't physically able to stay there much longer and she didn't want to continue to impose upon the kindness of neighbors. By the end of the second week, her property looked straight out of Better Homes and Gardens. And that was a good thing too as Judge Hardcastle was beginning to actually question his own decision to send McCormick over to help her in the first place as Gulls Way began to need some of McCormick's attention, especially the pool, which was starting to turn a light shade of green. Hardcastle would be glad when McCormick got back to his own work at the estate.

So the Judge wasn't surprised when he drove down the road on his way into town and decided to swing in the Robinson property as he passed by and saw the gate open. He was astonished by how spectacular her lawn and gardens looked in just a short period of time.

McCormick was no where to be seen on the grounds, so Milt walked up to the front door and knocked. Mrs. Robinson, looking much perkier than she had been the last time he saw her and came to the doorway, armed with only a cane instead of the walker. "Milt, come on in, I'm just serving some breakfast, would you like to join us?"

"Us?"

"Mark and I silly. He's taking a break and we're having a bite to eat. There's plenty of quiche left. He seems to like my aunt's recipe. I'd love another opinion.

"I wouldn't want to impose…" Milt stammered.

"Nonsense, I told you, I made enough for an army, I never really know how much that youngster will eat, don't you ever feed him yourself? Land sakes!" she pushed open the door for him to enter, "Mark usually seems to clean up everything I've set out, but he hasn't gotten that far this morning just yet, come in dearie, don't stand in the doorway like that letting all the flies in."

Hardcastle felt the need to apologize for his hesitation and his friend. "Sorry 'bout that," Milt sort of waved, "all the food and the flies and whatever," he nodded toward the door as the screen closed behind him.

Amelia laughed. "It's not your fault, it's actually flattering that he likes my cooking that much. Come on in."

Hardcastle wanted to say that McCormick would eat cardboard if you set it in front of him, but he held his tongue. It seemed to him that McCormick had made himself a new friend in his neighborhood and maybe the Judge was just a touch jealous. That feeling didn't last long though. Instead, he followed her back to the kitchen, where he saw McCormick shoveling in the food.

"Hiya Judge, did you come to help finish up outside or did you just come for the great food?"

"I came to see what the hold up was out here, but now it's pretty obvious. You're up to your usual bit, a lot of nothing, except putting your mouth to use."

McCormick grinned, "Now that's not true Judge, I've done a lot of work around her for Mrs. R. I can't believe you didn't notice how different it looks outside."

"More coffee Mark?" Amelia asked.

"No thanks, I have a little more to get done outside and I better get back to it, it won't finish itself."

He started to rise from the table, but Milt grabbed his arm and said, "Wait a minute there kiddo, did I just here you volunteer to go to work?"

McCormick let out a nervous laugh, but he followed it with a sly grin, "Now Judge, you know I didn't volunteer…" he let the words hang in the air.

Milt wanted to respond, but just as he was about to, Amelia set an overflowing plate of food in front of him along with a hot cup of coffee. With the aroma calling to him, he quickly forgot what he wanted to say to McCormick.

And then Amelia spoke up, "Land sakes, would the two of you knock it off, two weeks of the same rhetoric is quite enough. It doesn't matter which one of you is correct, all that matters is that you're here and we got to the bottom of a lot of things. I can't thank you both enough. Milt, did you take care of everything for me like I asked. Did Tomas and Roberto get back to Colombia?"

The Judge nodded, "Yes, I set up everything just like you asked. Mr. Meredith at the funeral home made all the arrangements just as you requested. They got there sometime yesterday."

"Thank you," she said with a sniffle. She quickly composed herself and added, "Land sakes, that food'll get cold, now start eating Milt."

Milt took a bite of the quiche and said, "Chuck Johnson, that realtor I told you about said he'd stop out this week. But from the looks of McCormick's labor, I don't think you'll have any problem with making a nice profit with this place."

"I certainly hope so. My brother and sister-in-law brought me a brochure on the place they're living, it seems so expensive. I'm not sure I'll be able to afford it."

"Well, whenever you want me to look over the numbers for you, just say the word. And don't sign anything till I look over the contract for you either," the Judge reminded her. "This is wonderful Amelia!"

"I hate to say this Milt, but I always was under the impression that you were sort of a snob. You've hardly said more than a dozen words to me over the years and now all of this. I'm flabbergasted. You're such a nice man. I never thought you cared about much more than yourself."

"The Judge is just kinda shy Mrs. R.," Mark intoned, trying to talk up the Judge, which got him a peeved look from Hardcastle. He ignored it and added. "Besides, I've been polishing off his rough edges lately."

"Indeed you have Mark, you're both wonderful. I hope you'll come visit me when I do move."

"Sure we will," Mark said.

They continued on with the conversation and finally Mark and Milt excused themselves. Mark had a few gardens left to fix and he thought the Judge was going to leave, but Hardcastle followed behind him, even offering to help.

"Don't you have errands to run Judge?"

"Nope, I'll give you a hand."

"Judge, you hate this sort of work, that's why you plucked me from the throngs of incarceration right?"

"No, I plucked you from your cell to work around my place, in case you forgot. Which, unless you get the lead out down here, you'll never get back to."

"So you're helping me is just being selfish. Maybe Mrs. R. is right. You are a snob."

"Is that really what you think?"

"Me? Nah, not you, I don't even think you know the meaning of the word."

"Then how could she possibly get that impression?" Hardcastle asked.

McCormick stopped using the rake he had in his hands and started to explain. "Sometimes it takes you awhile to warm up to people. That's all. You know not everyone is like me. You know, able to see past that John Wayne type A aggressive, macho personality type you are and see the sensitive side underneath."

"I don't have a sensitive side McCormick."

McCormick chuckled, "That's exactly what I'm talking about Judge." He went back to raking up some leaves and mulch.

Hardcastle wasn't satisfied. He let a scowl take over his facial features. "So I'm supposed to what McCormick? Be all smiley and weepy all the time."

There was another laugh, "That's not what sensitive is Judge. You know, like when you see Mrs. R. at the Halloween bash at your house in another month, sit down and talk with her for more than thirty seconds, have a conversation with her like you just had at breakfast."

"I don't want her to get the wrong impression McCormick," he said alluding to the dreaded word 'date.'

"Judge, she's not interested in you that way either, but it doesn't mean you can't be friendly."

"She said she's not interested in dating me?" Milt scowled even fiercer. That was a blow to his ego.

"Yes she told me that. You're not her type."

"I know, she wants a sensitive one huh?" The Judge raised his eyebrow.

"Actually she said it had more to do with you shooting baskets at 6:30 in the morning. The thumping gets to her after a while. She said there's no way she'd ever like that quality in a husband."

"She said that?"

McCormick nodded. "Grab that bag of mulch and pour it over here, will ya?" The Judge went and picked up the bag and did like he was asked. Mark spread the mulch around the area he had just cleaned up. "There, looks pretty good huh? Now I just have one more area over there to do and then I can head back over to Gulls Way and get back to my real job." Mark began to head over to the last area that needed his touch.

The Judge set the bag of mulch on the ground. "You know, I've been thinking."

McCormick stopped dead in his tracks and spun around. "What? What could you possibly be thinking now?"

Hardcastle took a few steps toward McCormick. "Here's what I'm thinking kiddo. I got another neighbor just around the bend from Gull's Way. Her name's Lydia, Lydia Thompkins, she's a real nice lady. I think she's a doctor. And I know she's divorced, been single now for years."

"Yeah?" Mark stretched out his reply. "So…..?"

"I'm thinking I give her a call and see if she needs any work done around her place."

"No," McCormick began to violently shake his head, "No way Hardcase, I'm not letting you hire me out anymore. Is that what this is all about anyway? You trying to find a date?"

"McCormick, how many times do I have to tell you, I'm not hiring you out, I'm volunteering your services."

"And if you get a date out of it, then what's that called?" Mark asked.

"That's called brilliance kiddo. Hurry up, let's finish this, I've got a phone call to make."


End file.
